If You Need to Crash and Burn
by KhemRocks
Summary: Summary: SPOILERS! Mahaad finds that it is his role as best friend, rather than magical protector, that is needed for the Pharaoh’s first night in the afterlife.


**If You Need to Crash and Burn**

**Summary: SPOILERS!! Mahaad finds that it is his role as best friend, rather than magical protector, that is needed for the Pharaoh's first night in the afterlife.**

**Disclaimer: ….Nope, still not mine! Neither's the song, obviously.**

Let me be the one you call

If you jump I'll break your fall

Lift you up and fly away with you into the night

If you need to fall apart

I can mend a broken heart

If you need to crash

Then crash and burn, you're not alone.

"**Crash and Burn," Savage Garden.**

Atem was missing, and his friends and family were starting to worry.

Not in the sense that they feared he would get into any real danger - what foe had they to fear here, in this, the afterlife they had dwelt in for thousands of human years, with only the longing and grief of knowing that one more must sit beside them to mar the pleasures of their personal paradise? Instead it was the knowledge, the anticipation they all seemed to share, knew as if one of their tight-knot group had spoken it aloud: that although Atem had just walked into paradise, there was a great pain just waiting to pounce on him, held at bay only by his justified happiness and shock at seeing the people who had waited for him for so long.

When he had first arrived, they had all pulled him to the Great Hall, all of them talking at once, caught up in shock and happiness of their own, and he had followed, seeming to try and take in the wonders around him while at the same time never wanting to look away from their faces, their welcoming smiles, their warm eyes, their kind words.

It was only later that he had slipped away: the pain of leaving his mortal companions, although so large, was slow to sink in and be felt, like a ship sighting an iceberg emerging slowly through the fog, subtle until the crash.

In the beautiful room that had become his in all of their time here, Mahaad was pulled out of his anxious musings by the sight of Karim's large, muscular form all but blocking the doorway. Although they all shared the trait of overprotectiveness over their former ruler, if it had become an actual contest, Karim would have been a strong contender for the lead, behind only Aknumkhanon, perhaps the former vizier, Siamun, and, of course, Mahaad himself.

"He wandered off, then?" Karim's voice had always seemed to summarize himself as a person: strong, deep, and gruff, but only covering an underlying softness, the warm personality only those close to him got to truly see.

"Yes," Mahaad replied, breathed out on a sigh. "I still can't really _believe_…."

"I know," Karim had agreed, voice going quieter still, shocked but happy, soft but disbelieving, "that he's here."

***********

A short time later, Mahaad returned to his rooms, after checking the former pharaoh's own room once again.

His own room.

Mahaad allowed himself a soft smile. Atem's room had become something of a joke to those who had waited so long for him, his friends in particular. As they had lived out their existence in their paradise, as the pain of the realization that Atem would not be joining them for a very long time (If ever, Mahaad had thought, terrified, in moments when he was alone and such heartbreaking thoughts could intrude on his traitorous mind, as the years in the mortal world lengthened and continued on into thousands) had dulled slightly, they had made his room. To contrast the darkness of the prison of the Millennium Puzzle, it was flooded with light, sparkling on the walls and throwing shafts of light across the painted floor, the latter made the way Atem had always loved best: highly polished and painted to resemble water and fish, as if the owner could truly walk across water when crossing the room. To remedy his longing for understanding of the place of his birth, scenes of normal and pharaonic life covered the walls in vivid colours, while gorgeous carved furniture and an elegant, soft bed completed the room, their tribute. It was beautiful, like most of the things in their afterlife, made even more so by the love and devotion that had so clearly gone into creating it. It was almost as if they had, in their own united, unspoken way, personified it: they would add the things they would collect during their time here, flowers and fruit, odd carved ornaments of different materials. They had used it as physical evidence that someone would one day inhabit it, as a receptacle for all of the emotions they felt towards their comrade, the young man who would one day, if the gods were merciful, return to them, to hear the stories behind the objects, to live with them, to add more once their group was finally whole. The friends, lovers, companions they had made since entering their heavenly afterlife had, more or less, understood the groups' desire: after all, who in their land of long gone Egyptians did not know of the "Nameless Pharaoh," the young man who, in only his mid-teens, had died to save them all?

For all of this, or perhaps because of it, they had been almost embarrassed when he had softly inquired if there was a place of his own to rest, unsure.

As if, heartbreakingly, he thought that they had not thought to prepare something so trivial, in the greater scheme of things, as a room of his own.

As if he didn't deserve one.

He had seemed overawed when they anxiously pushed open the doors and introduced him to its splendor, so much so that it was even easily distinguishable from the awe that he had shown up to that point, as he had gotten his first look at his new home.

Almost as if he knew, that this room, and the reasons behind it, were special.

But when Mahaad had softly knocked and entered, his search and call did not reveal the form of his friend, and so he had returned to his own room, lost in his thoughts once again.

Musings which were, once again, interrupted by a visitor.

Thinking the tentative knock belonged to one of the other searchers, Mahaad strode to it and swiftly pulled it open, mouth already beginning to form the words of his reply, when…

He registered that it was a short, wild-haired, violet-eyed, slightly trembling former pharaoh that stood before his gaze.

Beyond these first shocked impressions, Mahaad realized that, far from his usual confident demeanour, complete with proud stance and piercing gaze, Atem's eyes were downcast, sad, glancing uncertainly around him as if wondering if he was allowed to be there, his entire posture bowed as if he was literally being crushed by his own sadness. Mahaad was just able to pull himself together enough, past his initial sadness twinned with relief to know where the former pharaoh was once more, to murmur something he hoped sounded comforting and gesture him inside, while Atem was still talking:

"I'm sorry. I was just… I was walking, and thinking, and I just…I thought, I should…you…I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," said Mahaad, gently, somehow easing them both onto chairs and pressing a goblet of wine into Atem's trembling hands. "Drink this, it's help. It'll be okay…"

"Thank you." Atem's voice was still quiet, distracted, deep tones babbling, his gaze still flickering around Mahaad's room, seeming to avoid his friends' own calm gaze. "I had a feeling you would, I remembered you would, well not remembered, sensed, we were friends, and…"

_And how much harder is all of this_, Mahaad realized suddenly with devastating clarity, _to find himself in such a new place, grieving, memories restored but not yet fully understood, to be unaware of his friends and family's full devotion, on this, the night he needed it most? To be still bound by the "proper behaviour" drilled into him since childhood, that Pharaohs were strong, they did not show too much emotion, they certainly _did not _do something so damn _human _as to come to seek comfort from a friend in the late hours of the night…_

Atem stood suddenly, distractedly placing the goblet on he table between them, rushed, embarrassed, out of sorts, "and, I'm sorry, this is not right, I have no right, to come here, to ask, to ask _comfort_, and I'm sorry, I thank you for your kindness, I shall return to my rooms, I bid you goodnight…" All of this while his violet eyes became more sad, and gleamed brighter with more unshed tears, while he avoided Mahaad's hands to retreat to the door, to leave..

Before Mahaad finally decided to swallow his own instilled instincts of propriety, to allow the hurt and longing and friendship and _love _built over their years together and apart to flood them, wash them away, until it was just him and a cherished friend who, though he would very rarely admit it, desperately needed a friend on this night, his first night in paradise, but also his first night without his beloved mortal companions by his side, who had fought so hard to send him to his rightly deserved paradise…

Slowly, Mahaad reached out with both hands and grasped his shorter friend's shoulders, leaving him motionless, dark violet and plum eyes fixed on each other, with a silence that slowly become so thick it was suffocating.

"I'm…never going to see them again, am I?" Atem finally broke it to whisper, deep voice trembling with unshed tears.

"Not for a long time, no. But you will, you will.." Mahaad replied, slowly pushing forward until his arms were wrapped around Atem in a crushing embrace, head turned sideways into his unique tri-coloured hair, as they collapsed to their knees to the stone floor.

Atem finally succumbed to his grief, his body shuddering, finally saying "But I have you….I have you…."

A flicker of movement caught Mahaad's eye: looking up, past Atem's bowed shoulders, he saw their friends and Atem's father looking sadly at him, offering him weak smiles, grouped together in much the same way as they had when Atem first lay eyes upon them, as they stood, surrounded by the blinding light of their paradise. As they had while they waited their last few moments for their beloved son, their friend, to return to them.

"Yes" Mahaad finally replied, arms tightening, as his companions stepped forward to offer their own support, "Yes. You have us."


End file.
